Afraid to admit that
by Mistle
Summary: Rogue prefers to keep her own feelings to herself. Will she be able to realize, that the time has come to open herself up for the ones she really cares for?
1. Pretending

Afraid to admit that 

Prologue:** Reflections – Pretending**

Dedication: to Michelle

I own nothing but my pathetic wishes to write something mature and touching.

And when you see Rogue acting too OCC, that is just me trying to express myself through her.

* * *

Kitty often wandered, if Rogue really was the tough-girl she pretended to be. _Maybe she has some hidden-deep-inside positive feelings, that she would never admit to anybody, especially to herself. _Kitty thought, while putting on her gentle eye shadow. _Is the whole rumor about her being so Goth-ish and isolated just a wall, that she builds between herself, and the rest of the world? Maybe she subconsciously wants… expects somebody to climb over it, and finally get to her? Maybe it's just a test of determination and truth intentions? In that case, I do not possess that much determination. _

She put on a final touch of neutral blush, and looked at her reflection in the mirror.

_Very pretty_.

She opened her mouth slightly, licked her lips, and ran her hand through her long brown hair.

The girl in the mirror smiled at her.

_Cute_.

She looked herself straight in the eyes, that she hadn't known before. Deeper eyes.

_More reflective_.

Kitty shivered. She was scared of those eyes. She immediately shook her head, and smiled widely. It caused her pretty, blue eyes to brighten, but they were not reflective anymore.

"It is your day, and nothing can ruin it." she informed the girl in the mirror with great self-confidence.

The girl in the mirror nodded her head slowly, still having her pretty, changing eyes fixed at hers.

Kitty stood up, trying to run away from that threatening gaze. It reminded her of something that she couldn't define. She struggled for a while, trying to recognize this elusive memory, but she failed.

"No." she bashed herself, slowly opening the door of her room. "It's your day honey" she reminded herself loudly. _Kurt… and I… alone._ She licked her lip. She stepped outside her room, and heavily shut the door behind.

Not even a slightest thought of Rogue, nor those thrilling eyes, interrupted her later that day.

xxx

Rogue pretended to read. She didn't know why she had always chosen a vampire novel while pretending to read. _I guess it gets along with my attitude. Besides, it helps people to categorize me with one look only. 'Oh, she's that vampire goth, watch our necks, it's so damn funny' _The most ironic thing about it, was that Rogue didn't enjoy vampire novels that much. _Sure, Dracula was the classic, but the later ones? Shallow. Sex god that's gonna hypnotize you, and drink your blood passionately. Erotic fantasies of little, sad girls. Pathetic. _But she still kept on 'reading' them. _Mainly because a goth freak can't be caught reading Jane Austen, that's the point. When you dress in a different way, and lipstick does not excite you, it's obligatory for you to get frantically fascinated with each vampire that shows up. _she thought sarcastically and tried to turn a page.

She couldn't, thanks to the glove she was wearing.

She suddenly felt like crying.

For no particular reason, it just pissed her off, not only couldn't she touch, but she wasn't even able turn a damn page! Rogue bit her lip hardly, trying not to loose the poker player face-mask in the public. She slowly put her book down, and removed her glove.

xxx

Logan had been watching Rogue reading for a while. He immediately noticed the sudden change of her face expression, very soon replaced by the usual, cold, emotionless mask.

But it was not his business.

She wouldn't have accepted his help and care. Life was bitter and weird, when he needed to help lots of kids he didn't give a shit about, and the one, that he actually cared for, would reject his offers of help and comforting.

* * *

You made your way here, so I shall thank you.

I write for myself, so I don't care about revives 'that' much, but any constructive criticism is welcomed.


	2. Missing

Afraid to admit that 

Chapter One:** Memories - Missing**

Dedication: to Kurt

* * *

They were gathered at one of the lunch tables outside. People used to their usual loud and offending behavior were a bit surprised.

In fact, the members of the Brotherhood were surprised themselves too.

Pietro has confessed, that he missed Rogue.

The rest also missed her badly, but they wouldn't admit it, of course.

"I thought it was clear enough." Lance said to the table. He was too insecure of his own feelings, to face Pietro.

"She betrayed us" Todd added angrily, trying to put a bit of pathos into that phrase. He wasn't sure, which feeling he was supposed to show at the moment, but he decided that it would be safe enough to show anger. Lance seemed angry, so he was angry too. Everything, just not to get into Lance's way again.

Pietro, on the other hand, was unsure of his feelings, too, though it might seem different. It had been gathering inside him for some time, but he told himself, it will pass. It didn't. And today, when he saw her sitting alone on the opposite side of the pitch… _She has no friends there._ _She suffers alone. She no longer is the our Brotherhood girl, the girl she wants to be. She needs us, but she can't admit that. _He just couldn't take it anymore. He said this, and now he regretted it. He wasn't tough enough. He wasn't supposed to loose his blasé, easy-going attitude just because he missed her!

"I admit, that she was a great mate, when she was one of us. But she had made her choice herself. Nobody insisted on her. She had consciously chosen them instead of us." Lance spoke up, this time cool enough, to look at Pietro.

"We don't know" disagreed Pietro, trying to keep the eye-contact with the leader. "We don't know what happened. We don't know _why_ she made her choice the way she did. We never asked." he said, lowering his voice to whisper at the end.

Lance stood up, and bent over Pietro. "Are you suggesting, that _we_ were supposed to ask why the hell she decided to leave us? Don't be ridiculous, Pietro."

Pietro turned his head in opposite direction. He said nothing. Lance won once again.

xxx (day later)

"Hurry up, Ro, were gonna get late again, and Kelly-Poo is gonna get nuts!" announced Evan from the back seat of Scott's holly car. The rest of the group was already in.

"Yeah, I do care very much indeed" Rogue replied, walking down the mansion's stairs slowly. She always demonstrated her anger and annoyance by doing things ostentatiously. She wandered about shooting them a death glare from under her hair, that would express her irritation.

It was aimed at Evan and Scott mainly, but it hit Kitty. The girl shivered and looked down. Kurt, who saw it, poked his forehead looking at Rogue, then tried to comfort Kitty.

"Rogue, stop demonstrating your antipathy towards us, and honor us with your presence in the car, will you?" Scott shouted at her.

"Scott, the fact that you do like big words makes it impossible to believe, that they were intended to be sarcastic." she assured him, and battled her gaze with his. Scott was the first to look another way. Rogue smiled triumphantly. Her eyes swept over the whole group.

They all had their own little problems, not connected with her in any way. Not that her problems were connected with them, really. _I don't match here._

"Go ahead, you don't want to get a _detention_, do you?" she told them, and laughed surprised by the effect this word had on them.

"Man, hurry up!" Kurt shook Scott's arm hysterically.

"You will not…" Scott started, but Rogue cut him.

"Don't bother yourself." she said, turning back. She heard the sound of a starting engine, but nobody said anything else to her. They drove away.

_Now, as I got rid of them, I should start thinking of a way to get to this damn school on my own_.

xxx

"Logan?" he heard her voice just above his ear. He almost dropped the paper he tried to read. _Control yourself._

"What do you want?" he asked, turning back to her.

"I was wondering…" Rogue started, but then she just bit her lip.

"Yeah?" He tried to guess, what she meant, but it was senseless. _Just say it, whatever it is._

"May I borrow your bike?"

"My… Yeah. Sure. Whatever. Just bring it back undamaged." He nodded his head, and took the keys out of his pocket. _Did you supposed it to be anything special? Be reasonable._ She reached her hand for them. _Come on, it's not a movie. There's no slow motion when the hands of the heroes touch._ Logan thought, and just gave the keys to her.

"Thanks." she said, and smiled slightly.

"Every time."

She walked away, and Logan sat there alone, with a strange feeling, that he didn't even know what was going on inside him.

xxx

Rogue speed through the streets, enjoying the cold, refreshing breeze. Strands of her hair, blown by the wind, were flying around her face. She felt free.

Nobody was watching her, so she could smile, shout, and behave the way she wanted to. Unlike in the Institute. _Really, it never feels so good there. I haven't been myself since… since I left the Brotherhood. _Her good mood vanished at once. She couldn't even think about them, without getting seriously depressed. _Why does it have to be so? I wish I could take back time. I want so badly to be with them again. I could have even stand the fact that Mystique… No. I couldn't. _

"I can't stand that!" she yelled, and sped up, changing the lane. A car from behind stopped right before her. The driver started yelling something, but she wouldn't hear that.

She had no idea how was it possible that she avoided a serious accident, during her latter way to school. She was too busy with her thoughts to concentrate on the road.

She stopped at the parking with the squeal of tires. She shut down the engine, remembering to take the keys with her. She kicked the pavement furiously. _Calm down. _she told herself. It helped.

She made sure her face show no emotion, and made her way to the school. _Now, take the books._ She walked towards the lockers, searching for the keys.

"Stupid locker." she hissed, failing to open it third time in a row.

"You know, I would try opening your own." she heard a voiceover her head. She looked left, and saw Pietro, leaning against the lockers, and pointing the one next to the one she was trying to open.

* * *

I would like to know your opinion on this chapter. 


	3. Humiliating

**Afraid to admit that**

Chapter Two:** Declaration – Humiliating**

Dedication: to Chica De Los Ojos Cafe, gyjvfvnvffdjiklgh, lovedanigth and wolvieluvr – my first reviewers. I'm glad you liked it. I try very hard not to write fluff, so it's good to know someone bothers.

And answering the question that Chica De Los Ojos Cafe asked, I can say only one thing: you'll see.

* * *

_Stay calm. Stay calm. You are the Rogue. Bit your lip and stay calm. Do not cry without a reason. Do not be pathetic. Do not show any interest. Do not care. Stay the fuck calm!_

Rogue muttered something under her breath and took a few steps, pushing Pietro away. She hardly controlled herself enough to put the key in the lock.

_Miss Pitiful? Show off with the great superiority of your mind and prove that you can stay unaffected, by opening the locker properly, even in the face of Armageddon. _

"I… you know, I've been thinking about you." she heard from behind her. She didn't want to turn back to him, because her face was not to be seen. She wandered, if there really was a sound of stress, that she thought she heard in his voice. _Come on, why should _he _be stressed? _He _had time to prepare himself to this. _

"How stunning." Rogue replied dryly.

She had finally took the books from the locker, and she was now ready to leave. Her last phrase was, in her opinion at least, sarcastic enough to leave him smashed by her coldness. But she couldn't help herself – she really wanted to know why he desired to talk to her.

_Besides, it requires a lot of courage from him to face me after it all… Or rather it requires a lot of courage from me to face him. Anyways, it's a challenge for both of us. _Having palmed herself off that way, Rogue decided that she would stay, and hear the rest. She even turned to him.

But moments passed, and Pietro said nothing else - he just kept looking at her with the eyes, that couldn't tell Rogue absolutely nothing about the intentions of their owner.

She started to feel uncomfortable. _So, you've been thinking about me and…? I still think of you all, but I don't think it's a good reason to start bugging any of you._ She decided that it was stupid for her, to stand there, peering at him, and decided to leave, when he finally continued.

"Are you happy with them?" Pietro asked, seemingly indifferently, but Rogue wouldn't get fooled by the tone of his voice.

She was in no mood to pretend that she didn't know who he was talking about, and she didn't feel like playing some stupid games with him neither.

"No." she replied, along with the truth. "But I see no reason, for which you should care."

"The reason is quite obvious for me. You stopped caring about us, but that wasn't enough to make us stop caring about you." he said quietly.

Rogue just stood still. She wouldn't admit, that the last part of that declaration meant so much for her. _I don't believe it… it's not that Pietro I used to know. He would never say such a thing. I don't get it. Maybe he really… no, no. He acts. Like everybody._

"So, the almighty Brotherhood cares for something… somebody? Or was that just your personal declaration?" She looked at him, but his face stayed unchanged. But now, when she has started, she needed to finish it anyways. "In that case there's no reason for using plural form, I'm in no doubt that you know the basic rules of grammar."

Pietro apparently didn't plan to answer that accuse directly, so Rogue thought it will soon turn into another moment of awkward silence. She was wrong.

"You don't cry anymore?"

Rogue was so shocked with that question, that she didn't even realize when she started to answer it. "Yes… No… I don't…" she muttered chaotically. After a while she was in control again. "I've learnt to deal with my personal problems in other ways than crying them off, which doesn't help at all, just by the way. And once again, I don't know why you think that you have any right to ask me…"

Pietro cut her in the middle. "Do not bullshit, Rogue." She shuddered when she heard her _name_. "Crying helped you, as long as you had someone to cry in front of. May I tell you what I think?"

"No."

"You hold back tears. It's visible for anyone who knows you. Which means, that you've learnt to accept your… situation… the way it is. Before… before you tried to fight it. Now you just sit aside and hid yourself. Don't you possess determination anymore?"

Rogue quickly understood that he was perfectly right. _Who gave him the right to be right?_ she asked herself, and got hit by the stupidity of that thought.

"Leave me alone with my problems. You are not my therapist! I don't want to talk about it with _you_!" she hissed. She didn't knew, why it made her so angry.

Pietro opened his mouth to say something, but she wasn't done with him yet.

"Could I shown you that I no longer need your advices, in more obvious way than by leaving you? If yes, tell me how, and I'll do it!" she continued angrily. She knew, that it was the last thing she wanted to say, but he musn't know what she really meant.

Pietro slowly closed his mouth, and a second after a smirk appeared on his lips. A smirk, that Rogue knew so well. Pietro was himself again. He extended his hands, and pointed at her.

"Wait, wait." he started, with great dose of cocky self-confidence. "You said, that you didn't want to talk about it with _me_, so do not, okay? Which reminds me..." he put his hand on the wall, next to her head, and inclined towards her. "_Who_ do you want to speak about it with?" he whispered. Their faces were just inches apart, and Rogue involuntarily screwed her eyes.

But Pietro just made one sudden move back and smirked cheekily, while putting his hands pack to his pockets.

Rogue, who found herself pressed up to the wall, couldn't understand, why she felt so humiliated, so terribly used and humiliated. This time it was her to become speechless. She couldn't think straight enough to remember, what he _said_, because she concentrated on what he _did_. She was too ashamed.

She wasn't surprised to hear his laughter - she knew, how it must have looked like. Rogue wanted to say something ironic, something, that would wipe that damn smile off his face.

She had no chance to do so, because Pietro just saluted her, and walked away.

Her hurt pride wouldn't let her call him.

* * *

Yeah. 

I was afraid of writing Pietro's parts in this chapter. But, for me, everyone can be a little more reflective. Even Pietro. I hope his being OCC doesn't hurt that much. Or does it? If you wish, tell me, what _you_ think.


	4. Gathering

Afraid to admit that

Chapter Three: **The way home – Gathering**

Dedication: to Miranda Buehler, for the motivation, to g-here-insert-some-random-letters-from-the-keyboard-h, for the constructive comments, that make me feel appreciated.

About the emotions that we don't see on the show – I know that. It's just the matter of something that's underneath the typical behavior of the characters in a kids' show. I try to take a deeper look at them. I just don't know if my interpretation seems probable to you, like it does for me.

* * *

She had been thinking of him ever since she did it. No. She had been thinking of him ever since she met him. No. She had been thinking of him ever since she talked with him for the first time.

It wasn't love at first sight. It was love at first word-fight. But she wouldn't admit, that she was in love.

She found herself obsessed, and she felt good with it. But then, everything has changed. Before she did _it_, she had, or believed herself to have, some rights to think of him, to be obsessed with him, to dream of him, to expect something… from him. But then she had ruined even the slightest ghost of a chance for herself. She did _it_. The consequences made her realize, how much she had lost. And she couldn't stop thinking of him.

She didn't want that, she tried to fight herself, but she couldn't stop her thoughts from heading to the same direction, returning to him again and again. He was like a magnet for her thoughts.

The previous day was shit. Because of her thoughts of him. She was standing at that corner like an idiot. She would be probably still standing there, with her mouth wide opened, her eyes fixed at something visible only for her, her thoughts still returning to the same starting point, just like she did for those ten minutes, if not those damn books.

She tried to hide her eyes, that were slowly getting wet, behind her hands, when she realized, she was still holding the books.

By some far association their sight made her realize that she was supposed to attend some classes. The corridor was surprisingly quiet, so the lessons must have stared already. She hadn't heard the bell during that conversation. That conversation that opened her eyes on all that lost possibilities.

It took her a few moments to acknowledge the whole situation. She felt like shit, and she was aware that she didn't look any better. She had problems with concentrating on anything that was not connected with him, so it was completely senseless to stay at school. So she skipped.

A reflection, that she hadn't skipped any lesson since she joined the X-men followed by memories of what they used to do together. She made her was to the parking lot, and mechanically drove away, still absent-minded.

His words, his gestures, his expressions were still in her head when she had found herself in front of that familiar, half-ruined house. She had subconsciously chosen the longer way, the way that he was using to get back home. A way she had been using to get back to her only home not that long ago.

Her not-seeing eyes stopped on a jeep, parked in front of the house. They were home.

She thought of old habits.

She thought of coincidences.

She thought of misunderstandings.

She thought of his closeness.

And then she thought of pretences.

She turned her bike back, and drove away.

She thought she would cry. She wanted to free herself from that cold metal frame, which was holding her feelings back. But it was too strong. The frame, the mask soon became an integral part of her. Without it, she felt naked and vulnerable.

She shed no single tear.

And she just wished that he didn't see her. She didn't want him to think, that she was stalking him… after it all.

The leftovers of sanity made her get back to the Institute. She just wanted to close herself somewhere. To be left alone with the memories that she wouldn't wish to lose, even though they hurt her.

She ran up the stairs, and locked herself in her dark room. She closed the windows and the curtains. She isolated herself from the outer world. She was alone, with nothing but her thoughts left.

She collapsed on her bed. The second she closed her eyes, she saw his face with each detail.

She shouldn't feel it all.

She shouldn't feel it for him, fooling herself with fake hope. She shouldn't hope that something will happen, changing her life forever, by letting her touch… touch him. Because it would happen only in her dreams. And living in world of own fantasies was idiotic. She should be able to stop her own feelings. Because without physical contact, feeling were just… not enough. At least for him.

She was pathetic.

The whole so-called _love_ was pathetic. But she wanted lo love. She wanted to be able to love.

And it hurt her, to know, that she wanted something she could never have.

Because love was a gift for _normal_ people.

Even if he felt something for her, it was all ruined by her abnormality… her damn mutation. And by her decision of leaving.

It was all her fault.

All the feelings she had been hiding for her whole life were somewhere deep inside her. She couldn't stand it. She hated they gathered inside her.

She hated herself for what she did.

She hated herself for leaving him.

She hated herself for regretting it.

She hated herself for feeling guilty.

She hated herself for that irresistible feeling.

She hated herself for loving Lance.

* * *

This chapter wasn't supposed to be sloppy. It was supposed to be cold analysis of a feeling, with moments of serious depression of a character. And the way it turned out makes me doubt, if I can write anything, in a way that makes it possible to read. Go ahead, blame me. 


End file.
